


Knowing

by seki



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: "Every relationship's supposed to have a reacher and a settler, right? Someone who couldn't do better, and someone who totally could. You two -- fuck, it's the first time I've seen a relationship where both halves were settling."Maybe the safe option isn't always the right one.





	

When Yukimura opened the door, Niou strode in as if intimately familiar with the place, dropped a holdall and a rucksack down on the floor, and slung himself elegantly onto the sofa next to Renji with a grin. Yukimura seemed more resigned than surprised; Renji wondered if there was precedent. It seemed likely.

Still, it was odd.

Niou'd been a genuine celebrity, for about a year, a few years ago. He'd gone to some kind of acting school after graduating high school, and then fell off Renji's radar for a while. When he'd resurfaced, it was to announce he would be appearing in a play -- an extremely minor role, non-speaking and unnamed, but in a reasonably prestigious production. Renji had gone to see a performance of the play with Kirihara and Yagyuu, and they cheered with disproportionate energy at the end when Niou ran on with five other actors to accept dutiful applause from the audience. More minor roles came and went -- Renji saw a few, in shows which varied from awful to entertaining -- and then came some speaking parts, and then finally Niou landed a role in a big popular stage show, then another. Yukimura still had a few magazines somewhere from that era, with Niou's sharp features softened artificially and projecting a kind of boyish charm that hadn't been part of his repertoire in high school. It had seemed like a sure thing, at the time -- Niou'd made it, he was a star, and Renji'd been pleased for him.

That was as lofty a peak as Niou had ever managed to reach, however. He'd been in more plays, sure, even tiny roles on TV shows and even a small bit part in a couple of movies, but... well, Renji thought that it looked like Niou was on a slow slide back towards obscurity. Not that any of Niou's old friends quite admitted it out loud, but, well. Niou's time in the centre of the spotlight was clearly running out.

Niou still looked the part, though, Renji had to admit; clear-skinned, slim, and fashionably-dressed, with his hair dyed blonde and cut into a choppy style that suited him tolerably well. He looked tired, though, despite the grooming, as if it had been a very long day for him.

Yukimura settled back into his own seat, and looked Niou up and down critically. "Alright, let's start with: what happened this time?"

"My landlord moved all my stuff into storage and let the place to someone else while I was away. Git."

Renji put his book down, carefully slipping his bookmark into the right place. "Isn't that illegal?"

"I dunno, we didn't quite have a contract __per se__ , so I'm probably fucked." Niou shrugged. "I'll be fine, it's just a pain in the ass. Have you guys eaten yet?"

Renji cooked. Niou produced a bottle of shochu after they ate, and it made them all rather giggly and sentimental as they gossiped together. Yukimura grew distinctly tactile as the evening wore on, leaning against Renji's side and letting his hands linger on Renji's arm and thigh. 

That was… flattering. They'd been __intimate__ for a few months, now, though Renji still wasn't sure what had prompted Yukimura to initiate their first kiss. They didn't share a bed; Yukimura had never offered, and all their sexual encounters had been on the sofa where Renji had been sleeping since he'd moved in. Renji wasn't even sure Yukimura thought of it as a relationship, if he was honest. 

And yet Yukimura was sending out very clear signals of __we are together__ tonight. Niou -- reassuringly enough -- didn't comment on or look surprised by Yukimura's behaviour, nor did he react when Renji cautiously put his arm around Yukimura's shoulders.

"Well, we're going to bed," Yukimura announced, cheerfully, in Niou's direction, just after midnight. "Sofa's yours."

"I'll get my agent onto finding me somewhere tomorrow," Niou said, with a grin, and yawned. "Promise."

Yukimura's room was small, and cluttered. His bed was only __just__ wide enough for them both. It didn't matter much; they were both tipsy enough not to mind some discomfort, and soon enough Yukimura was snoring gently into Renji's collarbone. Renji lay awake for a while longer, trying to adjust to the sensation of sharing a bed -- and wondering if Yukimura would still want him there after Niou left.

\---

"Why are you staying here?"

Niou glanced over the top of the script he was reading. "As opposed to?"

"Yagyuu's, for instance?"

"Ah." Niou's eyes went back to the script. "He's married, I can't be underfoot."

But being underfoot for Yukimura was fine, thought Renji. Two and a half weeks, and Niou'd shown no real inclination to vacate the sofa. "I'm surprised he didn't offer."

"Who said he didn't?" Niou's eyes were still on the paper. "Thankfully I have other options."

"Does his wife not like you, perhaps?"

"No, she likes me enough to--" Niou glanced up. "Ah, now, don't analyse me. It's not Yagyuu's fault or hers and just __don't__."

Renji nodded, his curiosity alight, and sipped his coffee quietly.

It took three minutes of silence before Niou flung the script down and huffed. "Fine. I'm a fucking idiot, is that what you want to hear? I like her a lot more than I wish I did, and if Yagyuu hadn't met her first then maybe things would be different, but unfortunately life is shit that way."

Renji absorbed that. "You have feelings for __his wife__?"

"Appalling, isn't it? If my life was a script I'd shred it." Niou folded his arms on the table and slumped onto them. "You've met Nene, right?"

Yagyuu Nene was... pretty, in a sort of childlike, wide-eyed way that did nothing for Renji. She was, however, quite intelligent, with a wry sense of humour much like Yagyuu's own. He'd liked her, on the few occasions he'd met her. "She's very pleasant."

"Pleasant? You have no idea." Niou sighed, and glanced up at Renji. "Look, I'll get over it. I'm just not enough of a masochist to go stay with the happy couple yet, okay?"

"Alright."

\----

"What's Sanada doing these days, anyway?

"Nothing new that I know of," admitted Renji. "He's running the family dojo, still, I believe."

"He's been helping out at Rikkai, recently," said Yukimura, lightly, as if he hadn't spent much of the last four months avoiding even mentioning Sanada in Renji's presence. "With the kendo club, as their coach. He's enjoying it, and it's good money."

Niou nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "You guys see him often?"

"He never comes to Tokyo," Yukimura said, and Renji wished he couldn't hear the wistfulness in Yukimura's voice. "And you know how it is, finding the time to go. It's been a month since I went down."

"Mm." Never mind that Kawasaki was practically in Tokyo, that they could probably have gone there and back any evening they chose and that Sanada's life was predictable enough that it wouldn't be hard to avoid scheduling issues. Yukimura visited, and Renji made excuses. "I keep meaning to visit too, but, well. It never quite happens."

Yukimura had been attracted to Sanada for as long as Renji could remember. He'd finally admitted it out loud to Renji in high school. Sanada's perpetual obliviousness was a relief, he'd said, with a laugh, since it meant Yukimura was spared from the embarrassment of having to deal with Sanada awkwardly turning him down. For a while, it had even been a sort of joke, for Yukimura and Renji to despair together over how ridiculous Yukimura's feelings for Sanada were.

But after things had blossomed between the two of them, the joke had lost its humour. Sanada had become an ellipsis in their lives, mentioned as briefly and carefully as possible. Renji might mention something Sanada had said in an email to him, lightly, or Yukimura might likewise, but their references to his existence were all surface, no depth. 

Not that Renji had felt entirely comfortable with Sanada even before things had __shifted__ with Yukimura. Sanada had always had aims for his life, had filled his hours with useful and active pursuits. Renji's current lack of purpose and ambition seemed to offend him on some level. Their awkward conversations about Renji's future had left Renji feeling like Sanada didn't approve of his life any more. And excuses to avoid seeing Sanada in person came easily. _Too busy_ , usually, a ridiculous excuse when Renji's working hours consisted of a few hours per week in coffee shops or museums or at Yukimura's desk. Too tired, not enough notice, busy visiting Sadaharu or other friends, never quite the right moment to go see Sanada, to be reminded of the expectations Renji wasn't living up to. Emails were enough.

Niou's eyes had gone flat and distant, as if he'd lost interest in the discussion. "Well. I'm sure you guys will work something out sometime. Pass me that pen, would you?"

\---

Sometimes Yukimura worked late. Occasionally, this meant Niou was around when Yukimura wasn't. It was surprisingly easy to get used to his company, however, especially since Niou's evenings of being around were usually spent with him reading scripts or writing out paperwork, quiet activities that didn't distract too much from Renji's own diversions.

Interaction was usually minimal -- Niou was rarely in a conversational mood, and Renji rather liked the companionable silence.

It was unusual, therefore, when Renji set aside food for Yukimura to heat up later and Niou -- after ascertaining what Renji was doing -- made a horrified face at him.

"You know you two are like an old married couple, right?"

"You make that sound like a problem," observed Renji, covering the bowl over with a cloth.

"Shit, it's like you actually think this is as good as you're going to get." Niou snorted, and waved a hand as if encompassing the entire apartment. "Living here, like this, with him."

Renji set down the bowl carefully, on the table by the window, where Yukimura couldn't miss it. "My life is just fine, thank you."

"Yeah, that's what I mean, that attitude. You know, every relationship's supposed to have a reacher and a settler, right?"

"A what?"

"Someone who couldn't do better, and someone who totally could. You two -- fuck, it's the first time I've seen a relationship where both halves were settling."

Renji stared at Niou.

"C'mon, you're not in love with Yukimura. And he's not really in love with you either, and don't pretend you don't know that."

It rang true, and it __stung__. Renji sucked in a breath. "How is this any of your business?"

Niou shrugged. "Hm. Guess it isn't."

"Then would you mind not interfering?"

Niou shrugged again, made a zipping motion across his mouth, and went back to highlighting lines in his script.

\---

Yukimura wriggling out of the the bed in the middle of the night was something Renji'd finally stopped being startled by, but it still always woke him up.

One night, when Yukimura quietly let himself out, Renji heard a muffled exclamation and then some low voices, before the bathroom fan started up.

When Yukimura let himself back in, he was grinning. He snuggled back up against Renji, cold to the touch, and buried his face in Renji's shoulder before bursting into quiet giggles.

"Hm?" Renji enquired.

Yukimura lifted his head, grinning widely. "Niou was… entertaining himself. I sort of walked in on him."

Renji blinked, and then smiled as realisation dawned. "Oh, dear."

Yukimura giggled again, burying his head back into Renji's shoulder. "My poor couch," he cackled, his voice muffled. "Seriously though. You'd think he could just go out and get laid, even if he's not allowed a girlfriend."

"I suppose it's not quite that easy to always pick up girls, even if you're famous."

Yukimura snorted. "You'd think he'd score just with his looks. Have you seen him without his shirt on? Makes me wish I still played tennis."

Renji rubbed his hand up Yukimura's arm; significantly less defined than it had been in their teens, it was true, but hardly flabby. "I don't know. I like your current physique, personally."

"Mm." Yukimura snuggled closer. "Good response. But I'm still making you check Niou hasn't left stains on the couch tomorrow."

\---

Yukimura went down to Kawasaki for a weekend, summoned suddenly by his mother. He sent a chatty email on the Saturday night, full of amusing tidbits.

The sentence that Renji kept skipping back up to was ' _ _I spent some time with Sanada today; he says hello'.__ One sentence. No mention of any conversations they'd had, of why they'd met up. It was so… careful. 

Renji wondered if Sanada even knew that Renji and Yukimura were involved. 

When Niou drifted into the house that evening, Renji was huddled over a book on the sofa, not even pretending to read it. Niou took one look at him, then slung himself into the seat next to him. "Alright, spill."

Renji shook his head.

"Uh-uh. I hate it when people go all miserable and quiet. Talk, or I set fire to your books."

"It's--" Renji took a deep breath."If you're right, and Seiichi's still in love with Genichirou, then… I don't resent him for it. What's wrong with me?"

Niou tilted his head to one side. "Too much abstraction, too little self-esteem, too much fear of change, funny haircut, terrible clothes, you want me to keep going?"

"Thanks." Renji stood up, brushing himself down. "I think my remaining self-esteem needs a break before you crush it any further."

"Oh, __come on__ , Yanagi. You __knew__ how he's always felt about Sanada and you still fell into his bed or let him fall into yours or however it worked for you guys."

Renji frowned. "You don't think I hoped for more?"

"No. I know you, and I don't think you did, not really." Niou shrugged. "If I were you, I'd settle for being buds with benefits, but, well, you're clearly not me."

"I think I'd like to mean more to him than that. But not like this, not with how he feels about Genichirou."

"Shit, you know, it's not your fault Yukimura can't see what a good thing he's onto." Niou grinned up at him, ferally. "You're way hotter than Sanada, and frankly I'd jump your bones any day if it were my choice."

The words hung in the air for a moment, with more emphasis behind them than Niou'd probably intended there to be. "Oh."

"That's, uh, whoops." Niou's grin skewed to one side, vaguely wry and apologetic. "Sorry, but it's true. If you were up for it, I'd be all over you in a heartbeat."

Renji bit his lip, surprised by how appealing the thought was. "Well. I'm flattered. But not available."

"Uh-huh. Let me know if you change your mind." Niou wrinkled his nose, then winked. "And don't tell Yukimura."

\---

Sadaharu worked in Tokyo, in a bright tall steel building out in the concrete wasteland that was Odaiba. Renji went out there at least once every week, to eat in the spotless staff cafeteria and talk about statistics and chemicals and mathematics. Sadaharu was easy to talk to, if you could keep up with his assumption that you were as up-to-date on the research as he was, and Renji always felt entirely _understood_ no matter what they talked about.

Sadaharu slid a slim silver envelope across the table, after they'd set down their trays.

Renji picked it up, blinking. He was certain what would be in it, but this was rather earlier than he'd predicted. "Already?"

"Ameko's pregnant," Sadaharu said, pushing his glasses up his nose with a trace of mild embarrassment. "We signed the register yesterday, as a result. But she insists on a formal ceremony too, and it's a nice excuse to have a celebration."

"I see. Congratulations on your marriage. If I'd known, I'd have brought a gift for you both." The envelope was stamped with the Inui family seal, as tradition demanded. Renji smiled; he could picture Sadaharu's father carefully applying the wax and stamping each one, bursting with pride as he did so. "I'll attend the ceremony, naturally."

"I assumed so; I would also appreciate you making a small speech, as my best man?"

Renji felt his cheeks warm; he would have been surprised not to be asked, but it was still extremely comforting to hear the request. "I'd be delighted."

"Relatedly, Ameko asked if you'd be free for an omiai next week? With a cousin of hers -- a philosophy graduate, I think."

Renji set down the envelope, carefully. "I'm already involved."

For the first time in as long as Renji could remember, Sadaharu seemed genuinely startled. "Oh."

"I'm… Seiichi and I have an understanding."

Sadaharu looked blank for a moment, then his eyebrows arched in comprehension. " _Oh_. That's… would it seem inappropriate to congratulate you?"

"The sentiment's appreciated, thank you." Renji glanced out of the window. Fuji-san was just visible today, the top shrouded in clouds. "For now, I'd appreciate the information remaining private, if you don't mind. It's not yet clear how permanent Seiichi intends this to be."

"Of course."

There was a pause.

"If the child's a boy, I was thinking I might name him for you," Sadaharu said, clearly deciding to return to a topic he was more comfortable with. "Would you have any strong objections to that?"

\---

Yukimura's sister was an endless trial to her mother, and Yukimura's ability to talk sense into her was required. He was summoned back down to Kanagawa to run interference.

This email read __Staying over at Sanada's tonight. He says hello. He left the family rock in my futon. I think he's trying to be funny, it's adorable. Help.__

It was bright and cheerful, and unguarded in a way that really shouldn't have made Renji's heart sink the way it did. He shut the laptop, and stood up, his mind whirling with memories. Yukimura _blossomed_ when he was around Sanada, in a way that he didn't around almost anyone else.

Niou was watching him from the sofa, silently.

"He's at Genichirou's." Renji said, helplessly.

"Ah." Niou shifted, lazily graceful as he uncrossed his legs. "No wonder you look like someone killed your puppy."

"It's not that he'll do anything. But--"

"But he'll want to? So what, are you trying to police his thoughts now? I know it pisses you off, but unless he actually does something--"

"I almost wish he would." Renji bit his lip. "It would change things. One way or another."

"Why is it up to him?" Niou stood up, his movements fluid. "You're as free to change things as he is. Do something drastic, if that's what you want."

"I--" Renji stared at Niou, and the last few weeks of idle fantasies and thoughts coalesced into a sudden, wild impulse. _Niou_ was attracted to him. "I think I do."

Niou raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I, I want to forget. To be selfish, for a while."

"Hm." Niou's smile was a challenge, flirtatious and knowing. "I'm no trespasser, Yanagi."

"I'm not __property__ ," snapped Renji, annoyed by the analogy.

"Yeah? Well. Even so." Niou tipped his head to one side. "I respect Yukimura enough that I think I'd better find somewhere else to spend the night."

He stepped forward, into Renji's personal space, and smirked. 

Their faces were close enough for Renji to feel Niou's breath as he spoke. "But next time? I might not be so virtuous. Just so you know."

\---

__I understand that you and Seiichi are together?_ _

Renji stared at the email; terse, even by Sanada's standards, and without any indication of Sanada's reaction to the idea that his two closest schoolfriends were sleeping with each other. How had Yukimura broken the news? By email? On the phone? Or had they talked about it when he'd visited?

__In a fashion__ , Renji typed, eventually, and winced even as he pressed send.

__I see. Is it alright to ask how long it's been?_ _

__Several months. It is still rather tentative, however._ _ And Sanada could interpret that however he liked.

__He seems happy about it. I'm glad for you both._ _

Renji buried his head in his hands. Sanada in understanding, accepting mode was better than the nightmare scenarios he'd envisioned, but it still made Renji's stomach churn. __Thank you__. His fingers hovered over the keys, as he tried to articulate the rest of his feelings on the subject. In the end, he gave up. __It means a lot to me to hear that from you__ , he wrote instead, and sent the email before he could redact it.

__You should come visit with him next time__ , Sanada's next message read. __If you have time.__

Renji swallowed around the lump in his throat. __I'll try_._

\----

Niou's scripts had mostly been hidden away, and instead he'd began muttering lines to himself. Occasionally there were gestures and meaningful glares. Niou apparently couldn't help but rehearse his part, even when he was supposedly relaxing at home. It was rather amusing to see.

"It starts this Thursday, right?"

"Yup. About time, I'm sick of all these last-minute reviews and checks."

"Mm." Yukimura leant back in his chair. "I'm sure it's all useful to get you perfect."

"Fuck that, I knew the script __and__ the songs a week ago, it's a waste of time."

"Hmm. Get us tickets?"

Niou regarded Yukimura with amusement. "You of all people want to come and see a cruddy musical about hospitals. Really."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Renji and Niou exchanged a look, and Niou shrugged. "Do I actually need to answer that?"

"It'll be fine. Renji and I can dress up all pretty, come cheer you on." Yukimura shifted his keys out of the way as Renji set down the bowls. "And the tickets can go towards that rental payment you keep handwaving about actually giving me."

"If you insist. I'm gonna warn you: they give friends and family the cruddiest seats, though, right at the back."

\----

Yagyuu and his wife had seats next to them on the opening night, apparently also provided by Niou and towards the rear of the small theatre. Yukimura made polite small-talk with Nene beforehand, quietly taking hold of Renji's hand early on in the conversation.

Renji had frozen -- it wasn't that they were in front of Yagyuu and his wife, it was that they were in front of __strangers__. Being publicly gay in Tokyo wasn't as risky as it could be out in the country, but it wasn't precisely socially acceptable either. But nobody there had appeared to notice, and Yagyuu and Nene hadn't seemed even slightly embarrassed by Yukimura's demonstrativeness, and Renji'd relaxed slowly.

The musical had been excellent, with Niou as one of the two doctors around whom the plot revolved. It was a relief; Renji'd half-expected to have to conspire to think up plausible compliments to give Niou afterwards. But Niou'd been splendid, his character mercurial and complex and sympathetic. It made Renji wonder why he __hadn't__ become more popular, really, if he could act like this.

"He suits this sort of character," said Nene in the lobby afterwards, fanning herself with a flyer. "Morally ambiguous, neither a hero or a villain. I do wish he'd stop trying for heroic roles."

Yagyuu raised an eyebrow at that. "Perhaps __you__ can convince him. Last time I expressed an opinion about his choices of role, he made a fuss about not wanting to be typecast."

"And yet he won't--" and then Nene bit her lip, and shrugged. "It's not my business, I suppose."

Yagyuu smiled at Renji and Yukimura's curious expressions. "My wife believes that Niou is hampering himself by not pandering to the fans more."

"Well, he __could__ record some music, for instance. He's had several offers."

"He doesn't want to, however," said Yagyuu, sighing as if this was an old argument. "And I have to agree that his voice doesn't lend itself to--"

"In any case," said Nene, cutting across Yagyuu. "He ignores ways he could publicise himself -- presenting, modelling, anything except __acting__ because he wants to __just__ be an actor."

"Is that wrong?" Yukimura asked, lightly. "I think it's quite admirable, really."

"It's part of why he's not better-known, and he should be," said Nene, scowling. "He's good. But an __idiot__."

Yagyuu grinned at her fondly, and glanced over at the clock. "Indeed. And on that, shall we go see if we can retrieve the idiot yet?"

\---

"That was fun," said Yukimura cheerfully, as he slid into bed that evening. "We should go out more often."

"It was. Niou was impressive, I thought."

"Mm." Yukimura shifted, his knees digging awkwardly into Renji's leg. "Did I ever tell you how Nene and Yagyuu met?"

Renji frowned, confused by the apparent change in topic. "No?"

"They met at one of the events for a show Niou was in, in fact."

Renji considered that. "She was a fan of Niou's?"

"That's what Yagyuu told me." Yukimura stretched a little, and turned in Renji's arms. "She probably knows what she's talking about, is the thing, when she says he should stop being so focused. If he promoted himself more widely it would make his life easier. If he were better known, he would have a better shot at more interesting acting roles."

"Niou's always been contrary, though." Renji stared up at the ceiling. "The more he's told what he should do, the more determined he'll be to find his own path."

"Well, I hope he finds it soon. Maybe if he gets more work he'll finally move out and stop cluttering up my couch."

\---

Sanada came up to Tokyo for dinner.

Renji had a distinct sensation of being __outmanoeuvred__ ; Yukimura didn't actually tell him Sanada would be there until they were halfway to the izakaya. His prior fears were, it turned out, unfounded. The food was good, Sanada was clearly delighted to see him, and the conversation not nearly as stilted as he'd anticipated. Yukimura sat by Renji's side in their booth, his knee lightly pressed into Renji's thigh, and __radiated__ contentment.

After their meal, Sanada insisted on toasting to the success of Yukimura's newest work project. Yukimura retaliated by raising a glass to Renji's latest magazine submission. Renji, after some thought, raised his toast to the small recent successes of Sanada's students, and from there it all sort of spiralled until all three of them were propping themselves up by their elbows and enjoying the buzz of tipsiness.

"I __am__ happy for you two," Sanada announced, suddenly, after a small and quite comfortable lull in the conversation. "As a __thing__ , I mean."

Yukimura grinned widely, and leant fondly against Renji's arm. "Mm. We're a __thing__ , Renji, did you hear?"

"Indeed." Renji smiled, and patted Yukimura's hand. "And I'm quite happy about us too."

Sanada blinked blearily across the table. "I think I must be drunk. You two are being __cute__."

"Harsh words. But I'll let you off if you pour another drink," said Yukimura, and then he pulled his hand away from Renji's and stifled a yawn, suddenly. "Sorry, it's been a long week at work, I'm not tired, really."

"Hm, maybe we should call it a night even so," Sanada said, sounding a little wistful. "I need to catch a train."

"You can stay over," said Yukimura airily. "Don't worry about that."

Renji snorted. "I'm not sure Niou would appreciate sharing the sofa."

"He's still there?" Sanada squinted at Yukimura suspiciously. "You haven't kicked him out yet?"

"He's not that inconvenient a guest, and I have a futon in the hall closet somewhere. A little lumpy, but I'm sure you could survive one night."

Renji and Sanada exchanged a dubious look, and then Sanada shrugged. "Well, why not? Better than the late train with all the other drunks."

\---

It turned out that Niou -- according to the scrawled note he'd left on the coffee table, probably that afternoon -- had gone straight from that evening's performance to an event in Sendai and wasn't going to be back until the next evening.

Sanada, to Renji's surprise, looked rather disappointed.

"Well, now I get to be lazy and not haul the futon out, at least," said Yukimura, slumping into his usual chair.

"It might have been nice to catch up," said Sanada, as he shoved Niou's blankets up to one end of the sofa. "I never hear from anyone except you two these days."

Yukimura grinned. "Well, if you'll settle for __gossip…__ "

Renji retreated into the kitchen to make tea, though he could still hear the bulk of Yukimura's enthusiastic -- and reasonably accurate -- summary of Niou's recent career. Yukimura didn't seem to know about Niou's inappropriate feelings for Nene, somewhat to Renji's relief; that felt like a confidence that shouldn't be spread around too much.

"It always looks like a miserable life to me," said Sanada, as Renji brought the tray through. "No freedom, no dating, always working, always having to watch your weight and your clothing and your behavior."

"He seems to think it's worth it," Yukimura said with a shrug.

"Worth sleeping on sofas for… how long has it been?"

"Three months," said Renji, a little startled to realise how fast the time had passed. "Not that he's here every night, of course. And he'll be away for a whole week soon, I think."

"He's taking advantage of you, you know. He can't possibly be __that__ badly off."

Yukimura picked up his cup. "I know he could move out. But if he wants to stay here, that's alright. I'm not going to kick anyone out of my home without a very good reason."

"So you don't mind him living on top of you both?"

"Not really. You know I like company. If I could afford it I'd move into a big house with __all__ the people I like having around. Now, c'mon, find a new topic. Do you know what Akaya's been up to?"

\---

Yukimura's company had parties every so often, for clients and management alike. Yukimura would always come home amusingly tipsy from these things, at a silly hour of the morning, and then would be hungover and grumpy the next day.

This time he was __extremely__ drunk, and it wasn't even that late when he came home. Renji took one look at him as he noisily opened the front door, and immediately went to go __hold__ Yukimura upright before he collapsed in the hallway.

"Ah," said Yukimura, grinning at him. "I'm home, lover dearest."

Niou made a snorting noise. "I'll make some coffee."

Renji helped Yukimura to the sofa -- somewhat of a struggle, since Yukimura's legs appeared to not be very co-ordinated -- and lowered him carefully down. "Are you alright?"

"I feel __great__ ," said Yukimura airily, sliding his hands up Renji's arms and trying to pull him down onto the sofa. "Mm, you feel pretty good too. C'mere and kiss me."

"Uh." Renji freed himself, and glanced up at Niou. Yukimura __also__ tended to get a bit horny when he was drunk, though he usually wasn't so public about it. "We do have company, Seiichi."

"Don't mind me," said Niou, quietly, his back to them. "I can make myself scarce if you're gonna be noisy."

"Or you can stay," said Yukimura, his hands now clutching at the front of Renji's jeans, above the knees. "Maybe if you ask nicely we'll let you watch."

Renji flinched, and looked over at Niou again. Niou's shoulders had tensed sharply, then he deliberately relaxed before he turned around and smiled with sharp politeness. "Mm. Perhaps another time, eh?"

"Niou." Renji grabbed at Yukimura's hands, which had slid upwards and were now dangerously close to his belt buckle. "He doesn't mean -- I apologise for--"

"It's alright. He's pissed out of his skull and doesn't know what he's saying, I know." Niou hauled his bag onto his shoulder, and grabbed his phone from the table. "By my guess, you've only got about ten minutes until he hurls or passes out. See you tomorrow."

\---

Sadaharu's wedding ceremony was delightful. Yukimura came with him, and sat through the declarations and speeches with Renji. Yukimura took Renji's hand, as Sadaharu made an uncharacteristically emotional speech about his new wife and their future children. It made Renji wonder how Yukimura felt about children. Did he want them? Renji had no idea, and it felt like something he should know.

Yukimura had to return to his workplace after the speeches, leaving Renji to suffer through the subsequent awkward social mingling without him. There were a number of people he did recognise, thankfully; Sadaharu was surprisingly popular with both his tennis peers and his academic peers.

To his surprise, he was asked courteously about Yukimura by nearly everyone he knew there.

"Yukimura-kun said you two were dating," explained one of Sadaharu's old tennis teammates -- Shuusuke, Renji recalled after a brief desperate struggle with his memory -- and he smiled in a way that reminded Renji very strongly of Yukimura himself. "Living together, in fact. It's so lovely to see a high school romance work out for the best."

"I'm not sure I'd describe it quite that way," Renji said, taken aback.

"Perhaps not." Shuusuke tipped his head to one side. "You were best friends in high school, though? That's close enough to a romance, in my experience. Yukimura-kun spoke of you fondly even then."

Renji smiled, politely. "Well. That's flattering to know, thank you."

To Renji's surprise, his relationship with Yukimura had been considered sufficiently interesting to their old tennis comrades for the news to have been disseminated quite broadly in the last few weeks; the gossip chain had been fast and efficient.

"I was startled when Hajime messaged me for confirmation, after your request for privacy," Sadaharu said, later that evening at the bar, when Renji made that observation to him. "So I ignored the message. But you're official now, is that right?"

"I gather so."

"Ah."

Renji glanced over at Sadaharu, who looked predictably uncomfortable, and then he stared down at his drink. "I don't mind everyone knowing. I was merely surprised."

"But you're happy? It's a positive thing?"

Renji blinked. "I am, yes. I think we're good for each other."

"Good." Sadaharu sounded surprisingly emphatic, and when Renji looked over he was smiling. "Maybe, someday, I'll be able to give a speech at _your_ wedding ceremony."

"The legislation would need to be--"

"Of course. Even so, _one day_ , I would like the chance." Sadaharu picked up his glass, and raised it. "Here's to the future, my friend. May you one day have the happiness I do."

\---

Yukimura was sent to Fukuoka. Six days of company management restructuring talks, he'd said, rolling his eyes. His job wasn't really at risk, he said, but he had to be there. Everyone had to be there. Renji thought of empty offices around Japan, their employees all hauled to Fukuoka.

Renji enjoyed the first couple of days; he set out his writing kit on Yukimura's desk, and read through his working notes for the novel he'd planned, and procrastinated pleasantly by cleaning the kitchen and organising his books more neatly. It was a nice change to have the bed to himself; he missed Seiichi's warmth a little, but being able to stretch out and turn over mostly made up for that.

On the third day of Yukimura's trip, Sanada emailed unexpectedly.

__Have you and Seiichi had a fight?_ _

Renji frowned, and thought over the past few weeks. __No__ , he ventured. __Why, has he given you the impression we have?__

__He's here in Fukuoka _,___ came the reply, after a few minutes. __Dropped by the kendo tournament. Startled the hell out of me. He couldn't stay long though, he said.__

__He's on a work trip. I didn't know you'd be there. I don't know if he knew either? Perhaps he saw the advertisements locally and dropped by on a whim,_ _ Renji reasoned, as much to convince himself as anything else. __Maybe you two can meet up for drinks or dinner, he's there for a few more days.__

__I'll call him, then._ _

Renji wondered if there was even a genuine company meeting. Maybe Yukimura'd just wanted time away from him, from Tokyo, __with__ Sanada. He wondered if he should call Yukimura, or if that would look distrustful. He couldn't fathom what he'd say, if he called. Eventually he just tried to put the whole thing out of his mind.

He wrote _nothing_ that evening, nothing that was coherent at least.

__He's a disgraceful drunk__ , Sanada's text said, late the next evening. __Does he still throw up when he's like this?__

__Sometimes._ _

__Wonderful. I'll try to make sure he doesn't choke on his own tongue overnight, then._ _

Renji fought down a sense of rising horror. Yukimura, drunk, alone in a hotel room with Sanada for the night. __He'll say outrageous things, I warn you_ , _he typed, hoping he didn't sound as panicky as he felt.

__When doesn't he? I'll dunk him in the shower if I have to._ _

Renji didn't sleep very well, his mind persistently conjuring up images of Yukimura drunkenly confessing to Sanada. He was awake when Niou stumbled in at about four o'clock in the morning _,_ and still awake when Niou stumbled out again about a couple of hours later.

Yukimura called, not long after Niou had left. Renji'd given up on pretending to sleep, and was at the desk with a coffee trying to convince himself he could remember how chapter six was supposed to work.

"You're still alive," said Renji, lightly. "Genichirou had me concerned."

"Just barely," Yukimura growled. "How're you? Niou driven you mad yet?"

"He's not really been around." Renji stared out of the window at the busy intersection nearby. "I didn't know Genichirou was going to be in Fukuoka."

"Nor did I until I got here," Yukimura said, and yawned. "Ugh. It's a good thing, though, means I've an excuse not to go out drinking with my boss all the time."

"Well." Renji looked down at the desk, and smoothed his hand across the papers there. "How's the meeting going?"

"Not terribly, so far. They're being brutal with some of the other offices, mind you."

They chatted lightly and inconsequentially for a while, and then Yukimura excused himself to go have breakfast. Renji wondered if Sanada had actually stayed overnight. It had felt wrong to ask. He supposed it didn't matter, one way or another.

\---

"Alright," said Niou, when he came home that lunchtime. "Your face tells me you're upset again, and I bet you think you're just going to sit here and stew. Well, tough luck."

Renji blinked up him from the sofa.

"Up." Niou grabbed Renji by the wrist, and __hauled__ him to his feet with surprising strength. "You're coming with me."

"What?"

"Ever hung out backstage?"

Somewhat to Renji's surprise, he wasn't the only person backstage who wasn't actually __working__ on the play. A couple of the actors had managers who apparently just worked out of the dressing rooms while their charges were performing. There was at least one magazine journalist, trailing around after the director to try and get quotes for an article. And at least two people Renji met seemed to be there much as he was; because a friend in the show had invited them. The director's wife led Renji around for a while while Niou got ready -- which took longer than Renji'd anticipated. She seemed to be under the impression that Renji was primarily there to do research for his writing, and cheerfully kept explaining _everything_ until Renji's head started to spin a little with the amount of information.

Renji wound up lurking in the wings during the performance, which meant he saw the play at an extremely weird angle but could hear most of the dialogue at least. It was fascinating, however. He could see how the actors dropped their personas as they exited the stage; he could see the stagehands moving props and scenery; he could see the __mechanics__ behind the illusion of the stage performance. No wonder Niou loved it here so much.

Niou, as he came offstage at the end, grabbed him and hauled him down to the dressing rooms.

"Fun, huh," he said cheerfully as he slouched into the only visible chair in the tiny room. "If I wasn't onstage, I'd want to be a stagehand. Well. If it paid a bit better, anyway."

Renji found another seat, somewhere under a pile of clean towels. "It looks like hard work."

"So's acting." Niou stretched, and contemplated himself in the mirror. "And now I get to take this all off, shower, and put it all right back on again for this evening."

"You get no break at all?" That seemed absurd to Renji.

"Mm, I should grab food in there somewhere. Nonstop day, though." Niou pulled a face. "Busy busy. Feeling better?"

"I wasn't feeling __bad__ earlier," Renji began to protest, and then he gave up at seeing Niou's disbelieving expression. "But.. thank you. This was a good distraction."

"And so much more wholesome than my first idea for distracting you was," said Niou, winking at him in the mirror.

Renji could feel himself flushing, faintly, and ignored it. "I would almost certainly have declined. I should leave you to prepare for your next show, I suppose."

"Ah, actually, first -- let me wipe this crap off, I wanna take you somewhere."

Niou, his face now looking strangely undefined without his stage makeup, led Renji up to a tiny balcony that overlooked a thin alleyway at the back of the theatre. Renji peered over the side -- they were reasonably high up, but it wasn't the most glamorous view; the alleyway was half-flooded and scattered with more litter than Renji was accustomed to seeing in central Tokyo.

Niou leant against the barrier, and then produced a packet of cigarettes, some American brand that Renji vaguely associated with cowboys and vast sprawling plains of wheat. It looked oddly incongruous here, amidst the streetlights and tall buildings.

"Is that really a good idea for you?"

"Not even slightly," said Niou, and he grinned. "Want one?"

Renji shrugged. He'd never seen the appeal, honestly.

"Hn," Niou said, pulling one slim cylinder out. "Might make you feel better, one tiny forgivable sin behind Yukimura's back. Don't you think?"

"Ah." Put like that, maybe there was a point. "Is that not what might be referred to as a slippery slope?"

Niou grinned around the end of the cigarette. "You can share mine, if you don't want one to yourself."

Renji shook his head, watching instead as Niou lit up. "I suspect that would be even slippier."

"Ha."

It was a surprise that Niou didn't actually make a big show out of smoking; Renji'd rather expected Niou to pout and try to make it look __sexy__ somehow. He did, however, smoke with what appeared to Renji to be an almost obscene amount of enjoyment for the act, his eyes creasing subtly in appreciation as he inhaled and his lips quirking into a faint smile with every exhalation.

"You should advertise these things," Renji said, after a while, taking the pack out of Niou's hand. "You make it look enjoyable."

"That's because it is." Niou grinned, and held up his lighter. "Corrupted yet?"

Renji, a few minutes later, concluded that smoking was definitely an __acquired__ taste. But he did feel a sense of __power__ at committing the act of rebellion, small as it was. Perhaps Niou had a point.

\---

Renji didn't call Yukimura. He couldn't work out how to make it __not__ sound like he was checking up on Yukimura, like he was accusing Yukimura of something. He spent almost a full eighteen hours of the next twenty-four buried in the safe, familiar meandering of Kawabata's novels instead. It worked; his relationship with Yukimura seemed so straightforward and simple by comparison that he nearly couldn't remember why he was dissatisfied afterwards.

Sanada called him, quite early the next evening.

"He's drunk __again__ ," Sanada said, without preamble. "I think the company had some kind of drinking session this afternoon before I met up with him."

"Oh."

"I'll keep an eye on him, it's okay. He's in the bathroom at the moment." Sanada made a snorting noise. "Tell me he's not becoming an alcoholic, though, please?"

"No, it's purely work-related, I'm sure."

"Ah." There was a pause. "You were right about the things he says when drunk, though."

Renji felt his stomach swoop. "Oh?"

"He decided to tell me all about your sex life. In intimate and graphic detail." Sanada sounded more amused than distressed, to Renji's surprise. "I may have trouble looking you in the eye for a while, you understand."

"Oh dear." Renji tried to imagine how Yukimura would describe their sex life to other people. It was alarmingly easy to picture the gestures, at least. "You should have just told him you were embarrassed so he'd stop."

"I did. He didn't."

"...ah."

"It's alright. I'm less shockable than you might think, anyway. It's just, well, more information than I wanted to know."

"My apologies, all the same." Renji fiddled with the papers on his desk, idly. "Did he flirt with you? That sometimes happens when he drinks."

There was a weird hesitation, then Sanada made a huffing noise, as if offended. "Please. I don't think he'd even look at anyone except you."

"Ah--"

"I imagine he doesn't say it directly, but he's very--" and then Sanada broke off, suddenly. "Ah, he's coming back. Don't let him know I reported back to you, alright?"

"No, of course. Have a good evening, and--" and then Renji paused, unsure what to say. "Well, just, look after him for me."

"Of course."

\---

Renji's dreams were full of thick, plush stage curtains. They hung in every direction, against all laws of physics, and wrapped around him when he tried to chase after the voices he could hear beyond them. Laughter rang in his ears as the curtains closed in tightly, suffocatingly.

Someone was in the tangle with him. Occasionally Renji could hear them calling, could feel hands searching through the curtain, never quite making contact, always separated by a layer of fabric. He clawed at the curtains, growing more and more frantic, as the unseen person redoubled their efforts to reach him.

He woke, gasping for air.

Yukimura -- who had returned from Fukuoka that evening -- made a discontent noise at the disturbance but didn't wake up. He always did seem to sleep more soundly after sex, and Renji'd barely given him time to set down his bags.

Renji eased himself carefully out of bed, and padded barefoot out to fetch a glass of water. Niou was lying on the sofa in the darkness, lit by the dim glow of his phone screen.

"Early night for you two." Niou murmured, not looking up.

"Yukimura was tired from the journey. Have you been home long?"

"A while." Niou glanced up. "An hour, maybe?"

"Early night for you too, then."

"Mm." Niou stretched. "Show's ending day after tomorrow, need to save up my energy for the last few performances. Gonna miss this one, but, hey, new show soon, can't keep looking back."

Renji sat on the end of the futon, with his water. "What's the next one?"

"Rehearsals for a science fiction thing. Yakuza in space, but pirate costumes." Niou smirked. "Sex and knives and danger all around, and I get to be a silly bumbling idiot who doesn't know what's really going on. Should be fun."

"Sounds… different." Renji remembered what Yagyuu had said about Niou hating the idea of being type-cast, but 'oblivious comedy foil' sounded like an awful fit for Niou's personality.

"Sounds cheesy as hell. I can't wait."

\---

Sanada didn't bother to soften the blow with smalltalk or even the customary phone greetings Renji might have expected.

"Seiichi got fired," he said, instead.

There was a pause, and Renji's world tilted on its axis.

"Renji?"

"...I heard you."

Sanada let out a little huffing noise, as if Renji's noncommittal answer was in fact a confirmation of his suspicions. It probably was. "When he was in Fukuoka. They dissolved his entire department, nothing he did personally, but still: he got fired."

"...oh my __god__." Yukimura'd been back in Tokyo for a week. He'd been getting up and leaving the apartment every morning, in exactly the way he'd always done. Not even a __hint__ that anything was wrong. "He told you this?"

"No, of course not. His mother came by the dojo, assuming I knew already." Sanada snorted. "She says he's been looking for work all week, he's been to interviews and so on."

"Ah."

There was a pause, and when Sanada spoke again it was in a softer tone. "He's such a prideful idiot. Are you going to be alright?"

"I think so. Thank you for telling me."

\---

Renji waited a few days to confront Yukimura, just to give him a chance to admit the truth. It didn't happen; Sanada's theory was that Yukimura would most likely keep up the charade until he'd found a new job, at which case he'd spin the whole situation as him __voluntarily__ moving between companies. It sounded horribly plausible to Renji, frankly, and he was determined not to Yukimura get away with it.

"I'll be near your office around lunchtime," he said, cheerfully at breakfast, with Niou already out of the flat and Yukimura all suited up as if he was actually going to his old job as usual. "Would you like to eat together?"

"Ah, I might not be free today, it's been very busy," Yukimura said. Renji couldn't detect any sign of embarrassment or shame in Yukimura's voice.

"In that case I can drop by with a lunch for you. I'll leave it at the reception, if you're too busy to come down right then."

Yukimura hesitated for almost a full half-a-second before he smiled. "No, don't go to the trouble, I'll get something from a conbini on the way in."

Well, this was getting them nowhere. Renji took a deep breath.

"Seiichi, you're not going to work today."

"Hm?" Yukimura looked genuinely confused. "Why not?"

"Because you don't have a job any more."

Yukimura stared at him blankly for a moment, and then stood up. "I'll see you this evening," he said, lightly, his voice not even slightly betraying that he'd heard a word of what Renji had said.

" _ _Seiichi_." _ Renji put out his hand and touched Yukimura's hand. "Don't. I know what happened in Fukuoka."

Yukimura stood for a second longer, and then his legs appeared to give way and he crumpled into his chair. "I didn't--I don't--ah." He bent his head over the table, so low that Renji thought he was going to hit it. "I'm going to fix it," he muttered, instead, sounding incredibly forlorn.

Renji closed his hand around Yukimura's wrist. "You hated that job."

"I--" Yukimura lifted his head, and stared at Renji. "No. I liked my job. I just didn't like the part where company politics became more important. Managing a team and making them work together, inspiring them, I __loved__ that."

Renji pulled his hand away. "You've been looking for work, I know. Don't just take the first job you can find, please. Change industries, if you like. Take your time."

"You think I can afford that? I have rent and utilities and food to pay for."

"You also have __my__ savings to live off." Renji opened his notebook. "I'm also reasonably sure Niou can afford some rent. And, perhaps, I could go back to work too."

Yukimura blinked, as if the notion was completely absurd.

"I mean, I think perhaps I _should_." Renji smiled, wryly. "My writing isn't selling, after all. Perhaps it's time to give up on the dream."

\---

"Rent," said Niou, raising an eyebrow. "For the dubious comforts of sleeping on the sofa."

"Rent," said Renji, firmly. "Even if you move out, you should at least contribute the back-rent for a month or two, don't you think?"

Renji was also calculating how much back-rent Yukimura would actually accept from him, if any. Even a couple of hundred thousand yen would be a useful extra buffer for Yukimura, Renji figured, something to stop him worrying about immediate poverty while he looked for somewhere worth working.

Niou sighed. "Alright. How much?"

Renji shrugged. "I don't care. Something he won't be offended by."

"Oh good, mind-reading, my favourite task when it comes to Yukimura." Niou said, and rolled his eyes eloquently. "Fine, get me his account details, that way he can't actually throw the money back in my face."

\---

Renji took the first half-decent part-time retail job that opened up; working at a nearby footwear store. He didn't intend to stay there long, but he was aware that being his employed in some form would keep Yukimura from being fretful about their joint income. Yukimura jobhunted for five weeks, then he went for an interview in Kawasaki that he was vague on the details of, and then went for a follow-up a few days later.

Sanada called Renji, that evening, just as Renji was starting to wonder what time Yukimura would be getting back at.

"He's here," Sanada said, sounding confused. "And he -- he's going to be my boss. Did you know this?"

"A policeman?"

"Management, more than actual policing," Sanada said, and then took in a deep breath. "So are you moving down here?"

"I… possibly?" It wouldn't be hard for Renji to drop his job, nor to pick up a similar one in Kawasaki. But the idea felt like regression. Retreating from Tokyo, back towards his childhood. Still, he couldn't expect Yukimura to commute every day from where they were, not for long. "We haven't discussed it yet."

"Did he even tell you?" At Renji's silent non-response, Sanada snorted. "No, I didn't think so. It's a fine job, though. And he won't be expected to drink himself half to death every week."

Renji let Sanada talk for a while, his mind only half-focused on the words, and when Niou let himself in Renji made a few feeble excuses and tore himself away from the call.

"What now?" Niou asked, slumping into the sofa.

"Seiichi's got a job. Management in the police force. Genichirou's boss."

Niou whistled, a sarcastic take on a wolf-whistle. "And you? Still shifting shoes?"

"I can quit. Move to Kawasaki. That's not a problem."

"You? Leave Tokyo?"

Renji stared down at the desktop. Some of his notes were still on the surface, bits of poetry, visible through gaps in the strata of job-related paperwork Yukimura had dumped there over the last few weeks. "I'm achieving nothing here. Why not?"

To his surprise, Niou got up, and came to stand at the edge of the desk. "Fuck's sake. Want my real advice?"

Renji nodded, slowly.

"It's okay to say you want to stay." Niou moved aside a chunk of paperwork, with no care for the contents, and parked his ass on the clear space thus revealed. "You don't owe him. You could let him go."

Renji stared at Niou. Break up?

Niou cleared his throat, and turned his head to look out of the window. "Come on, really, what happens if you don't? You'll fret that him working with Sanada means they're going to hook up, even though Yukimura's too chicken to do that and Sanada's too fucking uptight to even think about it. You'll smile, and worry, and work shitty little jobs and pretend it's all fine, and wear yourself to a shadow, and you'll become one of those old men who--"

"Enough," Renji said, finally managing to find his voice. "Enough, please."

"No." Niou stood up, and leant over the desk, both hands on the papers now. "You see, that's just it. You deserve more. And frankly, so do they. Let it die, Yanagi. God knows, it's time."

He shoved himself upright, and stalked out of the room and into the bathroom.

Renji, almost on autopilot, began to pick up and sort the papers. His notes. His work. Yukimura's papers. Bills. Correspondence. Niou's old scripts.

Niou strode back in, picked up his coat, and then held out a hand, looking impatient. "Come on. Come."

"What?"

"Come _on_."

Confused, Renji stood, picked up his bag, and let Niou lead him outside, and down the road. Niou didn't speak, and Renji just followed, around bends and corners and then along a quiet residential road.

Niou stopped halfway along the road, and gestured at an apartment building on the opposite sides. "That. It's not where they live, they're on the other side of Tokyo, but let's pretend it is. Yagyuu and Nene. And the times I've stood outside their building, and wished." He rummaged in his pocket, and took out a packet of cigarettes. "And I stand, and wish, and it's so fucking pointless. But it means -- I get it. I know what it's like to cling on, when you shouldn't."

The situations didn't seem remotely alike to Renji, but he waited.

"So I'll cut you a deal." Niou lit his cigarette, and took a deep drag. "Let Yukimura go. Let him chase after Sanada, if that's what he wants. Hell, maybe he'll hook him, and we can all be glad. You do that, and I'll get my ass in gear and get over Nene."

"You think that's a choice you can make?"

"Fuck knows, but at least I can stop wallowing. And if we can work it out with Yukimura, I'll take over his rent on the flat." Niou exhaled, a long plume of smoke. "You can stay at your shitty job and write the rest of the time, and I'll go tread the boards."

Renji considered that, and reached out for the cigarette. Niou let him take it, watched him suck smoke into his lungs, and then took it back with a grin as Renji coughed gently.

"The sofa isn't that comfortable," Renji said, when he could. "I remember."

"Well, if I'm very lucky, maybe one day I can upgrade and share the bedroom."

Niou's grin was wry, again, but his words had enough sincere desire in them to make Renji feel flattered, and intrigued. Oh.

"I'll wait," Niou added, and took another drag on his cigarette, then shifted his weight to lean against the wall. "Not sure I'm ready for anything more committed than a fumble in the dark anyway, not yet. But one day."

"Hm."

Renji looked over at the apartment building on the other side of the road. It was a perfectly normal apartment building, much like the one he lived in now. Shadows moved behind the curtains on the second floor, people going about their ordinary lives, happy or unhappy.

He took out his phone, and heaved in a deep breath before finding the number he wanted to call.

"Seiichi," he began. "You got the job?"

It took a while for Seiichi to finish explaining, enthusiastically, about exactly what he was going to be doing, what a great opportunity this was going to be, and how much he was looking forward to it.

"I'm glad," Renji said, eventually, and smiled over at Niou. "Come home, and we'll talk about it some more, okay? See you later."

Renji hung up, and glanced over at Niou. "You think I'm a coward, for not telling him right now."

"Nah, he's happy, and you're not a jerk." Niou stubbed out his cigarette -- his second -- and stretched. "You will, though?"

"Yes."

Niou smirked, and then suddenly he moved, right into Renji's personal space, and he tasted of smoke as he pressed his mouth urgently against Renji's. The kiss was brief; Renji barely had time to appreciate the sensation before Niou stepped back again.

Renji raised a hand to his mouth, shocked.

"Well," Niou said, his mouth wry again. "Maybe I'm a little bit of a trespasser after all. But that's it, until you decide otherwise."

The walk home was slower, and Renji shut himself away in the bedroom -- alone -- when they got back, and stared up at the ceiling.

Niou was right. It was time to move on. Stop clinging onto 'good enough'. Let Yukimura find out if there was a future for him with Sanada. And let Renji find out if Niou could live up to his promises.

A better future awaited. For all of them.

~ _fin_ ~

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is a fairly hopeful and optimistic ending, but I'm prepared to believe others might disagree.
> 
> Happy new year!


End file.
